


Smooth Reflection

by Red Charade (traciller)



Category: Supernatural
Genre: M/M, Masturbation, Other, Soulless!Sam, mirror!kink, narcissistic!Sam, reflection!kink, solo!Sam
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-09-29
Updated: 2013-09-29
Packaged: 2017-12-27 23:56:54
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 722
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/985164
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/traciller/pseuds/Red%20Charade
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sam has some alone time at a motel while Dean's out trying to find some food to bring back for them. It's just him, a chair, a mirror, and his own dirty imagination.</p><p>Takes place sometime during season 6.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Smooth Reflection

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I don't own Supernatural or any of its characters. I am not making any money from this fic.

Staring at the reflection in front of him, long legs spread wide, heavy balls cupped in one hand while his other slid along the shaft of his cock at a leisurely pace, taking his time as he let his eyes trail up the expanse of hard, toned flesh at his abdomen, up further toward his chest and the hard, perky little nipples there and the blackness of the ink of his anti-possession tattoo.

Sam licked his lips, giving a slight half grin at his mirror image. He was so glad that they'd gotten a motel room that had a full length mirror hanging on the outside of the bathroom door. So far they'd been here three days and he'd already gotten some good mileage out of it.

But, really, could anyone blame him? He was fucking hot. He even turned himself on, just staring at all of that tanned skin, the long, thick curve of his cock as it stood proudly at full attention.

And well it should. It was a gorgeous dick, if he did say so himself. Which he did, rather loudly, to the empty room, taking some satisfaction in the fact that his voice was a little too loud in the otherwise total quiet what with Dean gone to find a fast-food restaurant or all-night diner that served pie.

Sam moved his hand a little faster, shifting his hips a little, finding it a bit awkward as the chair he was sitting in wasn't really built with masturbation in mind. It was a bit rickety. But he found he liked that, in a way.

Just like he loved the idea of getting caught sitting naked in front of the mirror, jerking off, he liked the idea that if he wasn't careful, if he got a little too enthusiastic, he might just break the fucking chair.

Pre-come was already leaking down the shaft, further slicking the way for his hand, and Sam moaned out loud into the empty room, not even bothering to try to be quiet, fondling his sac and feeling his balls tighten just a bit.

Sam's body was flushed as thrust up into his own hand, pleading out loud with his reflection to touch him just the way he liked it, yeah like that, do it just so quick, just so hard, and yes, oh god yes, the slight twist on the upstroke was heaven and he almost had to shut his eyes.

Mmm, but no. He couldn't really allow himself to do that, now could he? He'd lose the vividness of his own reflection in front of himself. That would be a shame. It was such a pretty reflection, all tense with the need to come but not quite close enough yet, still teetering at the edge, chest heavy with panting pleas for his twin lover to give it to him just the way he knew he needed it most.

He was sure he'd never been quite so wanton when he had a soul. Sam-with-a-soul was far too reserved, too proper, to be such a little slut even for his own hand. Especially for his own hand, his own reflection, to admit how much he liked how he looked touching himself, pupils dilated so far there was almost no iris left, the bad lighting in the room bouncing off surprisingly well against his sweat-sheened body.

Too concerned with forcing himself to be normal, to be something he wasn't, to even enjoy the sound of his own pleasured cries as he touched himself just the way he liked it.

The image and abandon were just too much and he cried out one more time, because oh yes that last push over the edge felt so goddamn good, and fuck...the way his reflection looked with come all over his hand, his belly, even some landing on his chest, the rest dripping down toward his balls, thick and white and sticky.

He shivered and his cock twitched at just the sight, his eyes falling nearly shut but not completely. Oh no, not completely. Sam loved the blissed-out, completely-debauched-and-loving-it look on his own face.

Oh yes. Yes, he'd be doing this again. And maybe one day he'd even get caught.

The thought sent a pleasant, excited shiver down his spine, goosebumps along his arms and long, long legs.

 

End

**Author's Note:**

> I am so sorry if this is horrible. It's been a while and I'm rusty. I tried! 


End file.
